


Kiss Me Through the Phone

by WhyDoIWrite



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Dating in Isolation, F/F, Facetime, Long-Distance Relationship, NWSL Challenge Cup, Phone Sex, Portland Thorns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25355152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoIWrite/pseuds/WhyDoIWrite
Summary: The Thorns win.Lindsey gets hurt.  Again.Sonnett provides the best kind of distraction.
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	Kiss Me Through the Phone

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by that photo from before the quarterfinal of Lindsey sitting on a ball, listening to music, and looking at her phone.

  
She just needed a minute. A minute on the field alone. Silence. Sunshine. Her happy place that she was still struggling to reclaim, this time without Sonnett.

The FaceTimes were great. The FaceTimes felt all the time, and that wasn’t a complaint. There was nothing Lindsey was more thankful for than Sonnett incessantly FaceTiming her. She’d drop damn near anything when that call came in. Best part of her day. Three times a day.

She sat down on a ball left behind from their walk-through, listening to a special pre-game playlist Sonnett made just for her instead of the Thorns gameday one she helped curate. Sonnett’s calmed her; she didn’t need to get pumped up for a must-win game. Sonnett’s made her feel, just for a moment, like she was in Georgia with her instead of on this turf field two thousand miles away, with a team Sonny would never be a part of again. Sonnett’s was special because it was just for the two of them, not the world.

* * *

She woke up with a different feeling in her chest this morning. A feeling that told her this was it. Not it like their season was going to end. Like an excitement, a low vibration humming throughout her body that told her this was _it_ it. Their day. Their match. Their time. The end to the Courage’s reign. The time when all their critics shut up. Their chance to reclaim what they had lost. Today was not for losing, which meant today was not for resting, for healing, for recovering. Because without a win today, there would be no more games. And wouldn’t that just be a fucked up way to end a fucked up season in a year that had, so far, been fucked up? The trade. The cancelled friendlies. The season turned tournament. The COVID scare in Orlando. All this time stuck on the other side of the country from Sonny. Going home early to nothing would really just be the icing on a terrible fucking cake.

Maybe this morning felt different because Sonnett had fallen asleep on FaceTime with her last night. Curled up in her bed under a blanket, promising she wasn’t tired, Lindsey was in the middle of telling her about how they had stained the hotel sidewalks blue trying to tie dye shirts. She asked Sonnett if she wanted her to make a hoodie for her, and when she looked back down at her phone, Sonnett’s eyes were closed, her lips barely parted, hands tucked into her. She was asleep, phone still propped up against a pillow. It was almost 1am in Atlanta; Lindsey couldn’t blame her. But she also couldn’t stop staring, marveling in how peacefully Sonnett slept. She hadn’t been able to watch her sleep in months. The way she breathed in these little huffs always seemed to ground Lindsey when she was stressed, and it was no different over the phone. 

Maybe it was the “Sorry for falling asleep last night, your stories were so boring,” text she woke up to that made her smile before she had even yawned and stretched. Or the one that followed, a more serious one. “Linds, no matter what happens today, whether you play or not, whether you win or not, you are becoming a legit superstar. I’m so proud of you for all your hard work.” Proud wasn’t a word Sonnett threw around. And the “whether you play or not…” they had kinda gotten into an argument last night about Lindsey always feeling responsible for the team’s success even with the detriment to her own physical health (and sometimes mental) health on the line. Sonnett was adamant that a worthless tournament wasn’t worth a long-term injury. Lindsey couldn’t get over the thought that she’d be letting her team down.

“You’re team’s a dumpster fire, though, Linds. Be real,” Sonnett said with a chuckle, but there was a seriousness to it.

“We’re not… ok, I mean yeah, we kinda area, but…”

“But you’ve got a decade of playing left in you, you can’t risk it all for this.”

And the thing is, Sonnett was right, but Sonnett being right didn’t dull that burning in her chest, the burning she’d felt since she was 12. The burning to get on a field and ball out. But… other than pride, this game amounted to nothing. 

That text though, it was like Sonnett _knew_. Knew that same fire, but couldn’t do anything about it with her new team temporarily disbanded. Knew that sometimes, when things are going poorly, pride is all you have left. Knew that Lindsey would regret sitting out if they lost, and dealing with that regret would be harder to overcome than an injury would. Knew Lindsey every bit as well as Lindsey knew herself. Or maybe just knew there was no point in trying to reason with someone as stubborn as Lindsey Horan.

Lindsey knocked on Pierre’s door before the sun was even up. He answered in a rumpled t-shirt with messy hair and sleep still in his eyes. “Don’t you need to be getting treatment stuff ready for us?” Lindsey asked, barging in. Typically, she would have at least made fun of him, but she was on a mission.

“Yeah. I had five more minutes before my alarm went off. But please, come in. Thanks for making sure I’m up. What do you want?”

“Tell me I’m not going to do permanent damage to myself if I play.”

“You’re not. But you’re also not 90 minutes match fit.”

“Clear me.” It definitely wasn’t an ask. It never was with Lindsey.

“Are you really going to play?”

“I don’t know yet. Move me to active.”

Pierre shrugged and nodded. “Ok. You know your body better than anyone else.”

* * *

They had already FaceTimed after breakfast, before Lindsey had to get into a van to head to the stadium. But now, alone on the field, all she wants to do is talk to Sonnett again. She stares at her phone for a minute, almost trying to will Sonnett to text her. She knows Sonnett won’t, because she’s supposed to be getting mentally prepared for the game, but it doesn’t stop her from wanting Sonnett to read her mind right now. She stands up, stretches, and flicks the ball over her head in a rainbow before heading back to the tunnel. The cool silence there is a welcome respite from the Utah sun. She slides down against a wall and looks at her phone again, and then gives in.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” comes Sonnett’s chipper voice. Her face is bright red, tendrils of hair darkened with sweat plastered to her skin. It looks like she just finished working out. “Don’t you, like, have a game?”

“Yeah, I just… I needed a minute.”

“You’re going to play.” Sonnett says it like she knows. It’s not a question.

“How do you know?”

“You were always going to play. There was never a doubt.”

“Then why’d you argue so much about it last night?” Lindsey wants to know.

“Because someone has to look out for you when you won’t look out for yourself. But I was never going to win that argument. I knew that.”

“You almost did.”

“I never stood a chance.”

Maybe that’s true. Sonnett doesn’t sound mad about it.

“Son, I have to- ” Lindsey starts.

“Babe, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I know.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I love you. That means I support you even when I don’t agree with you.”

Lindsey just blinks at her. She feels the tiny pricks of tears forming in her eyes, and quickly looks up to stop them from falling. 

“And I get it,” Sonnett continues, “you’ll play until you can hardly walk off the field on your own. It’s who you are.”

This is exactly why Lindsey loves her, too. Sonnett has never tried to change her. She argues and pushes back every now and then, but all she wants is Lindsey safe, happy, healthy. And in the end, for Lindsey to be her own person. “I love you more.”

“Always a competition,” Sonnett shakes her head before changing the subject. “You’re gonna win today, you know that, right?”

“You’re just saying it…”

“No, I feel it. I woke up feeling it.”

“Me, too,” Lindsey admits, surprised.

“The universe decided. Fuck the Courage.” Even with being traded in the way she was, Sonnett will never root for them. Not even with Sammy on the team.

“Fuck the Courage!” Lindsey echoes.

“Go get ready for your game. And stop telling people I FaceTime you three times a day! You act like it’s always me calling you.”

“Never. It’s cute. Next person that asks, I’m gonna tell them you’ve moved up to five times,” Lindsey jokes, except she’s not quite sure it’s a joke. It used to be annoying when people kept asking her over and over if she missed Sonnett. Now, she gets a bit of a rush when she tells them how often Sonnett picks up the phone to talk to her. “I miss you, Em.”

“Me, too.” Lindsey’s about to hang up even though she doesn’t want to. “Hey. You win, we play Mario Kart tonight.”

“What part of never ever forever playing it again ever wasn’t clear?”

“The never part,” Sonnett smirks.

“Rose is gonna get pissed if you play with me instead of playing whatever the hell stupid game you two play.”

Sonnett throws her free hand up and gives a little “oh well” shrug. “I get to be Yoshi.”

* * *

Sonnett waits. Impatiently. She loves being right. Which technically means Lindsey was right, too, so it’s less fun. But she’s way more concerned about Lindsey being subbed off in the 51st minute. Forty+ minutes of pacing, waiting, hoping, wishing for a W for her old team, which she still feels slightly conflicted about, but she can’t even feel happy for Lindsey when she feels sick to her stomach. She’s never been good at waiting, at being patient, but this is harder on a whole different level. Her hands feel clammy. Her head kinda hurts. Her heart hurts more. It’s a worse feeling than when Lindsey went down against the Reign last year. The injury itself isn’t, Sonnett knows, because Lindsey was able to walk off under her own power, but it’s worse in the sense that Sonnett’s not there. Not that she can do anything. Ever. But not being there makes her feel more out of control, and that doesn’t help with her anxiety. 

It takes hours for Lindsey to FaceTime her. Or maybe it just feels like hours.

“See, I told you it’s not always me doing the FaceTiming,” Sonnett tries to keep the mood light. “Mention that in your next interview.” She doesn’t want to ask what she really wants to ask. 

“Hi,” Lindsey says lightly, with a smile. At least she’s ok enough.

“Hi, baby.” She watches Lindsey’s eyes light up at that. Every time. Without fail. It makes Sonnett smile wider. Lindsey’s in her bed, leaning back against the headboard, with a box of Crumbl cookies in her lap.

“These from you?” Lindsey asks knowingly.

“Dunno? What’d the note say?”

“Congrats. Heart, the Spirit of Emily Sonnett. PS: Way to and then there’s and f and some asterisks the Courage.”

“Interesting. It would appear that they’re not from me. How’s the dulce de leche?”

“Son!”

“What?” Sonnett grins at her innocently. 

“I don’t need to be eating cookies.”

“I know. You’ve got those Quest Bars. Share the cookies. But not with that rookie. The goal-scoring one’s fine, she made you happy. Not the other one.”

“Emily.”

“Britt needs like 2.”

“Babe.”

“Speaking of that rookie. Your handshake with her is stupid.”

“Does it bother you?” Lindsey asks sincerely.

“No. But only because it’s lame lame. But if you come up with a good one, I won’t forgive you. Actually, you can’t come up with one as good as ours, so I’m not worried.”

Lindsey just shakes her head. This balance of living her life and trying to make sure she doesn’t hurt Sonny’s heart is hard.

“How’s your leg?” Sonnett can’t avoid asking any longer.

Lindsey lets out an audible sigh. Sonnett watches her chest rise and fall for a few breaths. “It’ll be fine. It just probably won’t be fine by the semifinal. We’ll see in the morning.”

“You’re young. And healthy. And stwong.” Sonnett says it hopefully, but they both know Lindsey playing is a long shot. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Like a really bad pulled muscle. But like sharper. And deeper.”

“What can I do?”

“Distract me?” Lindsey asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Right now?”

“Before Kelley’s game. We have to watch that or she’ll get pissed. She said she’s starting.”

“From the stadium or- ” Emily starts, worried about Lindsey being back out there in the heat and with the stairs and just not getting to let her body rest.

“No, just here on TV. But with the team. So… are you gonna help me out or not?”

“I- um- ” Lindsey loves how nervous it makes Sonny still. And she gets it, but it’s cute.

* * *

This wasn’t the most ideal way to start a relationship. She broke up with Russell while Sonnett was in Atlanta. And yeah, Sonnett’s first reaction was a sarcastic “Again?” but Lindsey deserved that. 

She also deserved Sonnett laughing at her when she quietly said one night, tucked under the covers and in the dark because it felt safer, “Em, I want to be with you.” But then Sonnett stopped laughing because it wasn’t funny anymore, not when Lindsey’s face was this mixture of seriousness and hopefulness. 

“Oh.” Sonnett said finally said. “This isn’t the wine?” Lindsey shook her head. “Like be with me, be with me or- ” Lindsey nodded. “Hmpf.”

“Hmpf?” Lindsey sat straight up. “What does that mean?” She tried to keep her voice from rising in panic.

“Nothing,” Sonnett shrugged. “It’s just, you wait til the whole damn Great Plains is in between us?”

“Aren’t you just supposed to be happy that I figured it out, not complain about when or how long it took?”

“Four years,” Sonnett shook her head. “You had four whole years.

“Emily…” Lindsey’s voice cracked.

“How long?”

“How long what?” Lindsey asked, confused.

“How long have you been in love with me?”

“I- I- I- I didn’t say I was in love with you.” Lindsey stumbled, trying to find her words, trying to put up a decent sounding argument, but at that point, she didn’t even know why she was bothering. Sonnett just laid there in silence with her eyebrows raised, waiting. Lindsey felt the heat rising in her cheeks. “A long time, Son.”

“How long?” Well, Lindsey supposed she deserved all that, too. “Before ARod.” 

“Before ARod,” Lindsey confirmed.

“Yeah, obviously. That just confirmed my suspicions.”

“Well why didn’t you say anything?” Lindsey whined, at the fact that Sonnett didn’t say anything months ago and at the hard time she was giving Lindsey in the moment.

“Not my place.” And then she waited some more, while Lindsey squirmed nervously.

“After we lost in 2018,” Lindsey mumbled.

“Hmm.”

Lindsey’s heart had been racing since before she even opened her mouth to spill her soul to her best friend. Now, it felt like her heart was beating out of her chest and the pressure was building in her ears and she just couldn’t take it anymore. “Emily Sonnett!”

Finally, Sonnett cracked, the corner of her mouth turning up in just the beginning of a smile. “Fine. You can be my long-distance girlfriend.”

“What the fuck, Son? What does that even mean? Do you have a girlfriend in Atlanta? Oh my God!”

Sonnett burst out laughing again. “No, Linds,” Sonnett assured her. “It’s only you. I’ve just been waiting around for you to figure your shit out. No big deal.”

It was so anticlimactic that Lindsey could hardly stand it. No profuse “I love you, too.” No tears of happiness. No dramatic soulmate moment like in the movies. Maybe that was because they were several thousand miles apart, but part of Lindsey had envisioned something special happening even through the phone. All she got was Sonnett teasing her, prolonging her stress. But after Sonnett finished giving her a hard time, she never brought it up again. Never questioned the timing. Never questioned Lindsey’s intentions. She just needed to make sure Lindsey knew she knew, and knew how long she had been waiting. 

It’s not like things changed much between them. They spent more time on the phone. Ok, all the time on the phone, perhaps. The miss you’s were the same. The I love you’s were said with more care, not so much as an afterthought or in passing any longer. 

And then one night, Lindsey let something slip. Now, things can slip accidentally, or things can be let to slip on purpose. When Lindsey let it slip that she had been reading some in her spare time, Sonnett didn’t think anything of it. Innocently enough, she asked Lindsey what she had been reading. Lindsey hesitated, but just for a moment, and then texted Sonnett a link. “This,” she said simply, when Sonnett looked at her confused. 

“What- I- Linds this is- ” Sonnett stammered. That’s when she decided Lindsey had definitely let this tidbit of information slip on purpose. 

“I think about you when I read,” Lindsey said quietly, and then, almost shyly, “sometimes I touch myself. I can close my eyes and pretend it’s you touching me.” Sonnett swallowed hard, her eyes skirting from Lindsey on her laptop down to the words on her phone. “You should read to me. I mean, if you want,” Lindsey started to backtrack.

“I want,” Sonnett rushed out, a little too enthusiastically. She couldn’t help it. She’d never done anything like this.

They never seemed to get far before Sonnett’s voice was faltering and her eyes were spending more time on Lindsey than on what she was supposed to be reading. And then Lindsey’s heavy breathing and quiet moans would replace Sonnett’s scratchy voice. 

She missed Sonnett. She wanted Sonnett. Needed her. It felt like this was the only thing that could keep Lindsey sane during their time apart that kept getting stretched longer and longer. It only left her with a shadow of pleasure. Never enough compared to what she knew Sonnett’s hands and lips could give her. Most nights, Lindsey would fall asleep surrounded by pillows and pretend it was Sonnett’s body against hers. Sometimes, she’d fall asleep trying to will herself to be beamed 1800 miles into Sonnett’s bed.

* * *

“It’s been a while,” Lindsey hints.

“Mmhmm.” Sonnett tries to quiet her mind.

“I miss you.”

“You already said that.” Sonnett’s throat feels dry. Tight. It’s hard to swallow. It’s hard to not focus on her heart pounding in her chest.

“But I _miss_ you.” Lindsey says a little needier. 

“What do you miss the most?”

It’s when Sonnett’s voice gets raspy and a little shaky that Lindsey knows she’s not going to be able to say no. It feels like a victory every time. But in this moment, she doesn’t quite know what direction to take Sonnett’s question. She could talk about missing Sonnett’s fingers inside her, tapping against her G-spot, thumb brushing her clit. But the truth is, she can’t stop thinking about the little things. The everyday things. The mundane things. All the things that used to serve as tiny reminders to Lindsey that she wasn’t alone. Sonnett holding her on the couch, running her fingers through her hair. Being able to touch Sonnett’s cheeks and watch her smile and crinkle her nose just a little bit at that. The way Sonnett smells and hearing her voice for real, not the way it sounds so distant and small through a phone. She misses the things she fears they’ll never have again. Sonnett there when she comes home. Her shoes perfectly lined up, but her dirty clothes in a pile on the floor. Her toothbrush at Lindsey’s place. She misses Sonnett’s warmth. She misses her presence. 

“I miss feeling your heart pounding against my chest. And the weight of your body when you’d jump in my arms or lean against me or lay down on top of me,” Lindsey finally replies, watching Sonnett’s face soften. If she were to close her eyes right now, it wouldn’t feel like there was any distance between them at all.

There’s a long silence between them. “I had a dream about you,” Sonnett all but whispers.

“When?”

“Last night.”

“You could have told me about it this morning, before my game,” Lindsey pouts.

“Then we wouldn’t have a distraction for now, would we?” Sonnett says coyly. “I was in the kitchen, at the stove, and you came up behind me. Kissed the back of my neck. You slid your arms around my waist. I didn’t realize it at first, but you were naked.”

“Really?”

“You pushed up my shirt and dragged your nails up along my stomach, you know, the way you used to on my forearm on the bus after games?”

“You should take off that shirt,” Lindsey says, her voice deepening. She half expects Sonnett to laugh at that and refuse, but Sonnett sits up and lifts her shirt over her head. Lindsey takes a ragged breath when she sees Sonnett’s not wearing a bra, her pert, rosy nipples drawing all of Lindsey’s focus. 

“I turned around and you lifted me. Carried me to our bedroom,” Sonnett continues. The _our_ isn’t lost on Lindsey. You took my clothes off. You were slow about it. Purposeful. You let your mouth trail across my flesh as you exposed me, until I was completely naked.” 

Lindsey thinks she’s going to have to ask Sonnett to finish undressing, but in the time she tries to decide if she would be pushing her luck, Sonnett’s taken her shorts and underwear off. Lindsey didn’t mean to moan, but she also can’t stop the sound from escaping her lips. 

“You looked at me, just like you are now. And you took off your clothes, too,” Sonnett adds. 

Lindsey should have known she wasn’t going to finally get to see her girlfriend naked without repaying the favor. She should have known Sonnett was all in when she started describing her dream in detail. Lindsey follows suit, sliding the cool sheets up to cover her bare skin.

“Your hands were so confident on my body, more sure than your lips. It’s like you knew what you were doing.”

“You should show me,” Lindsey says, her voice becoming breathy. It’s like Sonnett is giving her a roadmap to what she likes, where she touches herself and how. But not there, so close to touching herself but like she’s waiting for Lindsey to tell her to. They dance back and forth on the edge until Lindsey can’t take it anymore. “Do you want me to fuck you, Em? Do you want my fingers inside you?”

Sonnett just whimpers, her eyes squeezing shut as she runs her fingers through her folds and up to her clit.

“Are you wet, baby?”

Sonnett doesn’t even have to respond. Lindsey can hear the sloppy sounds as Emily spread her legs and slides her fingers inside.

“Baby, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me. Don’t stop, just look at me.” Sonnett opens her eyes slowly. “Good girl.”

Lindsey’s stretched out on her bed, uncovered now. Her chest and face are flushed. She has her fingers buried between her legs, too. The things that Emily would do to her if she were there in that hotel room flash through her mind as she works herself up. She feels this urge to tell Lindsey all the things she wants to do. Instead, she bites down on her lip and keeps them to herself. Saves them for later.

“Faster,” Lindsey commands, matching Sonnett’s rhythm.

“Fuck,” Sonnet moans. She’s so wet for Lindsey now, her own juices dripping out of her pussy and down the curve of her ass. She just wants to Lindsey to tell her what to do, the dream far from her mind as the present takes over. 

“Faster.” Lindsey’s voice washes over her again, and she can’t help but arch up into her own hand. She thinks she could come just from Lindsey whispering in her ear. “I want you to come for me, baby.” Lindsey sounds like she can barely grit the words out.

Trembling around her own fingers, Sonnett cries out in a crescendo, a sound Lindsey had never imagined hearing. Lindsey comes at the sound of Sonnett’s voice, shaking as her muscles contract and her own fluids leave her and her bed wet. It takes them a few minutes of heavy panting before they can even look at each other again. 

“Linds?” Sonnett’s voice is small and distant again.

“Hmm?” She rolls over and looks at Sonnett with a contented smile.

“Thank you.”

Lindsey furrows her brow. “For what?”

“For… just for being you.” There’s a lot of things Sonnett wants to say, but she can’t really manage to say the words in the moment. For being patient. For being brave. For finding a way to make this work from the other side of the country. For making her feel more comfortable in her own skin than she ever has. 

“I need to go take another shower.”

Sonnett chuckles.

“I guess you can play Animal Crossing with Rose while I’m with the team.” So she does know what ‘that stupid game’ is called, Sonnett thinks to herself. “FaceTime me after Kelley’s game. Unless she loses, then I guess you’ll have to FaceTime her.”

“We’ll both FaceTime her if she loses.”

“When are we playing Mario Kart?” Sonnett hasn’t forgotten.

“Never ever forever again ever!” Lindsey yells, trying to hide her smile with feigned frustration.

“Ok. So tomorrow morning after breakfast. Hope you’re ready to lose! Can’t let you win everything. You get cocky!”


End file.
